


It Burns Me (this self-hatred of mine)

by TheRoomWhereItHappened347



Series: Dark Thoughts in the Limelight [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I swear fluff is in the next chapter as well as comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, I’ll check over this when I come back online, I’m posting at 2 AM excuse poor tagging, M/M, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, Oikawa Tooru’s Knee Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overworking, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, but they’re mentioned in like one line, high expectations, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoomWhereItHappened347/pseuds/TheRoomWhereItHappened347
Summary: Genius beat hard work. He could testify that from experience.His best wasn’t enough.He wasn’t enough.Not for his team, not for his mother, not for himself. The weight inside his chest became heavier.He just wanted someone to be proud of him. Was that too much to ask?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Dark Thoughts in the Limelight [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075667
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	It Burns Me (this self-hatred of mine)

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Happy New Year 🥳! I hope your year goes better than 2020 did and you achieve what you want to! We’re starting it off with angst, apparently. I was going to post this yesterday, as I’d written this at midnight due to the amount of self-hatred I felt. The only reason it didn’t post was because I forgot to tag something and I had to shut off my device. Thank God as well, because it needed a bit of editing lol. 
> 
> 2) Idk when chapter 2 will be posted, but there’s too much in this to not write it, so it’ll be there at some point. 
> 
> 3) Enjoy the fic and leave a kudos and comment!

BAM!

The impact of the volleyball on the floor echoed around the gym, it rolling away from its point of impact after.  
His heart beated wildly as he analysed his success over the past few hours. 

Most were in, some were at the edge, a few went out.  
Those few were what he had to improve, because no one would want him if those few lost his team vital points needed to win. 

Once he deemed his heartbeat steady enough (it wasn’t really steady, but if Oikawa could jump serve with its pace then it was fine) to take another serve, he grabbed a ball from the basket and tossed it in the air.

To an audience, his throw would be fairly high in the air, but to him it wasn’t good. ‘Too far forward,’ he thought as he leapt up to meet it, his palm meeting the ball’s hard surface and leaving a sting after. 

Out.

“Tch.” His chest heaved as he thought about what needed to be improved.

Throw it higher. 

Be more accurate.

Was the jump good?

He had so many things to improve on and not enough time. The Spring Tournament was nearing and he had to beat Tobio-chan and Ushiwaka, otherwise he wouldn’t make it anywhere.

Who would want a setter that hadn’t made it to Nationals and had been beaten by the same person every time? Who would want someone as worthless as him? 

He’d never lead his team to Nationals, had worked himself to the point of needing a knee brace (speaking of which, his knee ached and if he didn’t stop soon, he’d be stuck on the bench for a while), and in general hadn’t achieved anything since middle school. 

‘I’m a failure,’ he pursed his lips, ‘and everyone knows it.’ 

He knew they knew it through the way Ushiwaka constantly said ‘you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa’.  
He knew it through the way he’d failed to bring his team to nationals. 

He knew it through the way his father left at the age of 12 and his mother avoided him by working long hours at the hospital and commenting her scathing thoughts when she was around.

‘Do something amazing Tooru,’ his mother’s voice whispered inside his head. ‘Do something magnificent and soar.’ 

He hadn’t soared because he didn’t have wings. Not like Kageyama or Ushiwaka, both geniuses and both better than him. 

Kageyama hadn’t beaten him yet, but it was a matter of time before he learned how to fly properly and reach places Tooru couldn’t even touch despite having plenty of time to do it. He just didn’t work hard enough.

He knew it because the words were whispered everywhere in Miyagi, the words coming from some in the volleyball community or relations when he was at a family reunion. 

‘Tooru, how’s volleyball been working out for you?’ 

‘Oh, it’s fine.’

‘Have you succeeded in any competitions? Made it to nationals?’

‘No.’ 

The look in their eyes when they disappointedly said ‘ah...’ even though the unspoken meaning was ‘you should probably give up, you’ve been trying for years and look where that’s got you’. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled to himself as he collected the volleyballs on the other side of the gym. 

What time was it? He’d lost track around 7 o’clock and hadn’t checked his phone since, drowning in his thoughts and focusing on serving in an attempt to cope with the weight on his chest.

The weight had manifested at 3 AM that morning, when he was trying to figure out why he’d received 21/40 on an assignment. Was his evaluation bad? Did he use the wrong quotes? He didn’t know, but it’d bothered him all day and caused him to spiral until a tiny issue at dawn exploded into a massive mess in his mind by dusk. 

He’d kept his mask up, otherwise Iwaizumi would’ve picked up something was wrong with him and he wouldn’t have been allowed to ‘clean up’.  
His boyfriend was too observant and wouldn’t have left Tooru alone after practice, and instead would’ve dragged him to his house and eventually his wonderful boyfriend would’ve cracked his fake persona that acted as a facade-

The pain in his knee turned from a growing ache into a throbbing pain and he struggled to focus on this next serve, it going barely in. 

He aimed for the centre of the opposing court. ‘Useless.’ A few inches off. 

Close left. ‘You should be better.’ Out.

Far left. ‘You, beat Ushiwaka? Impossible.’ Far left corner, barely in. 

This thought process continued, a pattern in his serves emerging. 

Almost where he wanted the ball to land, never exactly where it he wanted it to be. 

His lungs hungered for oxygen as that thought was thrown around his brain, his weakened muscles forcing him to stop. 

He was always almost there, but never reached ‘there’. 

Screw geniuses and their ability to effortlessly win.  
Genius beat hard work. He could testify that from experience. 

His best wasn’t enough. 

He wasn’t enough. 

Not for his team, not for his mother, not for himself. The weight inside his chest became heavier.

One tiny mistake and his brain would mercilessly berate him, going into overdrive over the simplest things. 

Sometimes he wished someone would tell him something positive that wasn’t fake. Sure, his fan girls obsessed over everything he did and would praise him on something as seemingly simple as his hair, but it meant nothing. 

He just wanted someone to be proud of him. Was that too much to ask?

Someone who would be proud of him despite his constant failures -in volleyball and as a person, because it wasn’t as of his mother saw him as anything good and Iwaizumi always insulted his ‘asshole’ personality- and would be proud of him for simple things such as taking a break or getting a decent amount of sleep. 

He deemed his body ready to practice again once his arms stopped shaking, despite his knee protesting against any movement and served, taking in the fact it landed where he wanted to before aiming somewhere else. 

He visualised Ushiwaka as he served at the right corner, the ace ready to receive his serve. It went out. The pressure in his chest exploded.

“Fucking do something Tooru! Stop missing and actually score. You’re Seijou’s Captain, you should be leading by example, not failing basic serves!” He yelled as he reached for another ball, his next serve missing due to his rage-induced state. “Do something right and actually succeed instead of achieving nothing!” 

Spots swam in his vision by the end of his rant and his arms ached, his legs choosing not to support him anymore and letting him fall to the floor, his dignity the only thing stopping him from lying face down on the dirty surface. 

The sound of choked gasps and his thundering heart were the only things that filled the empty gym with some sort of noise.

He felt pathetic. 

Imagine what his teammates would think when they saw their normally all-mighty captain crying to himself at god-knows what time at night. 

He stood on trembling legs and wobbled over to the bench, admitting he needed to rest if he wanted a bit more time to practice. 

His phone buzzed and the screen lit up to show Iwaizumi. For once, the ace wasn’t scowling like he normally would in Oikawa’s photos, instead grinning. It was from a video Oikawa took when Iwaizumi opened a birthday present from Oikawa last year -a Mothra plushie to match his Godzilla one. He’d screenshot that frame of the reaction video, it never failing to make Oikawa smile, even if it was faint. 

Oikawa didn’t see it this time, too tired to consider who the caller would be, and picked the call up without hesitation. 

“Hel-”

“Crappykawa, I’ve called you 10 times in the past hour, where are you?” Iwaizumi’s irritated voice cut through his greeting, making Oikawa flinch. 

“Ah, that...” He checked the time. 21:26. “How mad would you be if I was still at the gym...?”

“Fucking- what?” Iwaizumi exclaimed, Oikawa wincing at how loud it was through the speaker. Oikawa could imagine him running a hand through his spiky hair before resisting the urge to facepalm. 

“Ok, we’re going to have a conversation about this when I get there. For now, stay put or do something useful. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” Iwaizumi’s tone left no room for argument and he hung up as soon as he finished. 

He stared at his palms, the anxiety of facing his angry (and disappointed) boyfriend distracting him from the meaning of ‘do something useful’. 

He threw another ball up. ‘Attention seeker.’ The ball didn’t land where he wanted it to go.

Oikawa threw a volleyball up with his left hand. ‘Disappointment.’ It hit the net. 

Serve.  
Slam.  
Repeat. 

Some went in. Most went out. Every ball didn’t go where he wanted and the pressure in his chest built again, frustration bubbling in the boiling cauldron that was his mind. 

He collected all the balls again when he decided there were too many over that side, not wanting to cause more hassle for Iwaizumi than he already was. 

His knee was crying out in agony now, every movement bringing sharp pain and forcing him to stop before attempting another serve. 

Ignoring the breeze that normally followed the gym doors being opened, he threw the ball in the air, carefully watching how high it was and jumping for it soon after. ‘Burden.’ 

Spots dotted his vision as his leg made contact with the floor, his knee giving out and giving him no choice but to fall. 

Warm arms caught him as his vision turned black and his mind filtered nothing, completely exhausted and forcing him to give up consciousness.


End file.
